The Dominance Cycle 1: Play Your Part
by timewaster123456789
Summary: When an accident intensifies the horcrux connection Harry finds himself spending unwanted time with his mortal enemy. As the realities of war, the incompetence of the ministry, and fate nudge Harry down a new path, the legacy of an old man produces unintended fruit. Grey!Harry noslash.
1. Chapter 1

Lord Voldemort apparated into the meeting room of slytherin castle stumbling slightly as he landed. He allowed himself to stand a moment, his head bowed in exhaustion as he waited for the flood of pain from his burnt leg to abate. He quickly straightened, adjusted his stance so that he could avoid putting too much weight on his leg without it being noticeable and activated the darkmark. Some fifty death eaters arrived and he began to speak, long years of practice keeping the weariness out of his voice and manner.

"My loyal followers We have been making great strides both here and abroad. The inferior and the unworthy will soon bow before our might." Cheers greeted the cliched drivel and he wondered absently how absurd a speech he could make before the cowards and sycophants would falter in their adoration. Great Salazar he was tired. "To that end your reports." He continued when cheers died down. Lucius stepped forward, bowed and spoke of the efforts within the ministry all of which seemed to be going well including two new unspeakables having been recruited. He dismissed Lucius and Snape came forward bowing.

"My lord, It is done Dumbledore is dead." Riddle felt like he'd been slapped. After all these years Dumbledore was dead and at the hands of a student. Snape for his part looked jubilant if you over looked the paleness and his shaking hands, easily mistaken for fear though the darklord knew wasn't.

"Ah," _So the plan worked._ "Young Draco succeeded than?" He asked.

"Yes my lord." Snape replied his head bowed in apparent submission and jaw tight in anger that Voldemort was supposed to take as jealousy but he knew wasn't. Snape wasn't ambitious enough for that. _Liar.  
_

"He will be marked at the next meeting and given a position of command over this years new recruits." Voldemort said simply. He would deal with Snape later.

"Thank you my lord." Said Lucius with genuine gratitude if a liberal amount of fear for his offspring. Bellatrix offered a report on the fear campaign, Fenrir spoke of his progress with the werewolf alliance and Macnair relayed updates on various recruiting efforts. He was about to dismiss the meeting when a young man named Ratel- one of the first batch recruited and marked after his rebirth- Asked him why he was bothering with 'filthy' werewolves. Inwardly he cringed he wanted this meeting to be over outwardly he gave a cold yet entertained smirk. Fenrir leaped and he listened to the screams as the kid was beat to shit and bitten with Fenrir's still vicious human jaw. When it started to appear that things would go too far Voldemort wandlessly threw a simple knock back spell at Fenrir and a shield charm between him and the twenty-something bleeding and whimpering on the floor. Fenrir leaped against the shield a couple of times which Voldemort allowed for the sake of the amusing terror it caused Ratel. When his blood-lust abated Fenrir looked towards Voldemort seething with fury.

"Take him to the dungeons Fenrir. No healers, on the full moon turn him. His attitude will be a pack matter at than." Fenrir leered anger gone and stalked forward to drag a screaming Ratel into the dungeons. "If there is nothing further..." He said though it wasn't really a question. "The meeting is adjourned."

He walked, teeth gritted deeper into the castle while the deatheaters -those that weren't staying at the castle walked to the edge of the wards. He made it to the library selected the book he wanted and disapperated. He arrived at the Gaunt house or more accurately near the Gaunt house and entered a nearby building protected by a fidelius charm. He had created it to essentially be his house on the rare occasions that his personal chambers at the castle were not adequate. It had two rooms not counting a bathroom and a hidden vault room. He drew his wand left handed and took down the half dozen wards and locks on the door and land, hissing with disgust as he messed up the wand movement of one spell and had to redo it. He crossed the threshold replaced the spells and sighing in relief limped heavily into the bathroom.

He shrugged awkwardly out of his cloak and robed hissing in pain as he jarred his injured shoulder. He sat on the toilet with the cover down and leaned against the wall glad to be off his feet finally. The bathroom was a relatively simple affair: Shower and sink both with snake's head knobs, toilet, and combined cabinet/ mirror with silver frame of winding snakes with emerald eyes above the sink. He tried to pull off his shirt only to find it stuck against his ribs. He took out his wand and awkwardly cut around it left handed. Finding his shoulder dislocated he relocated it biting back a hiss of pain and cast a cooling charm on it. Soaking the remaining bit of shirt stuck to his ribs he examined them to find at least one broken under the charred skin. He cast a spell to set it but since, like most healing spells of any serious use the bone mending spell could not be cast on one's self he would have to leave it. The curse that had caused the burn damage was such that the magical burn salve he had in the cabinet would take several days to fully heal it but he slathered it on anyway trying not to groan in pain out of habit though no one was there.

After applying the salve and gauze wrapping his ribs and leg he limped out of the bathroom and sat down in a comfortable green armchair in the main room. It was the only chair in the room which was sparsely furnished with two bookcases flanking the bedroom door, a map of Britain on the wall and a small table with what looked like a chess board flanking the bathroom door and a fireplace on the empty wall. He opened the book wanting nothing more than to sleep but needing to reference some details to make sure that everything was set. He would be in that bed within the hour for the first good night's sleep he'd had since he left for Romania almost two weeks before. His head still throbbed from the amount of endurance potions he'd been taking of late. He should have been elated that Dumbledore was gone but after all the years of hating the man he hadn't even been there when it happened it felt rather anticlimactic and...empty. He remembered Dumbledore talking about the teaching job, feeling oddly touched by the gesture even though they knew he wouldn't accept the offer. He flipped to the section of book he'd marked and bolted to his feet wand out almost collapsing as he put his weight evenly on his injured leg. _Avada kadavra. _He cast silently and watched in shock as it passed through Harry Potter.

Harry's pov.

Harry landed on a soft green carpet and saw Voldemort in all his snake faced glory leap to his feet in a weird crouch knees bent ready to move. It was different from the stance Harry had seen at the ministry he tried to throw himself out of the way of the killing curse but was too late, however it passed right through him without any apparent harm. He 'landed' on the floor yet felt no impact and got to his feet. Voldemort standing normally now looked at harry appraising and he returned the gaze with defiance. As he stood there Harry noticed a steadily increasing throb in his leg. Harry's scar split open and he fell to the floor clutching his head feeling Voldemort's rage and something flood him. A crucio and some other presumeably nasty curse passed through him to no effect and slowly the rage and agony faded. Voldemort looked at Harry thoughtfully before saying

"I can assume that you are here to use you awe inspiring powers of light to avenge your precious Dumbledore golden one?" Harry's scar flickered with fire as that something-annoyance?- flashed again.

"I have no fucking clue why I'm here but you make a good point he drew his wand "Expelliarmus, incendio, diffindo, sectumsempra." Voldemort threw up a shield and spells all went through it and the darklord to no effect. Harry had no idea what was going on but his head hurt and his leg was aching for no reason. He now really looked at the dark lord for the first time: He was wearing lose black pants of cotton or silk with silver trim and a matching long sleeve top almost pajamas with black dragon hide boots. He was white with rage and holding his wand in his left hand which struck harry as odd for some reason though he wasn't sure why. Not wanting to stay in a room with a livid Voldy in case the snake found a way to harm him he walked for the door only to find that his hand went though it. Voldemort wandlessly opened the door and sat down as though the single chair was a throne. Harry tried to walked out but he couldn't cross the threshold.

"I guess I'm stuck here until i wake up" Harry said. Voldemort fired a useless crucio and hissed.

**"Tonight of all nights. I just want to sleep." **Harry's jaw hit the floor before he realized that Voldemort had forgotten that he was a parslemouth too.

**"So sleep."** Harry hissed back thinking that would be a great improvement to the situation. Harry felt embarrassed for some reason saying it though. Voldemort just laughed mirthlessly.

A/n: Please review as this will be a long series and I am wondering if it's worth continuing. On that note having someone collaborate would be awesome


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This chapter will alternate POV's I hope it isn't too jarring.

Harry sat in boredom on the floor watching his mortal enemy read a book in some language he couldn't understand and wondering at the surreal circumstance. He also wondered why his leg hurt so fucking much but he wasn't going to alert the darklord by checking. He shifted a bit and reached up to rub his temples noting a distinct stiffness in his shoulder. _Perfect. _He thought bitterly. The darklord looked up and he immediately cast his eyes to the floor in an effort to avoid that bloody gaze.

LVLVLVLVLVLVLVLV

Voldemort appraised his young intruder for a moment before deciding that-throbbing headache or not-this was an opportunity that may not present itself again for a longtime so...

"So your shepherd is gone and yet you will still walk to the altar as the light's sacrificial lamb? Why? There is no hope for your cause. You would take a meaningless death at the behest of another cowardly, incompetent minister to preserve a corrupt system you admit publicly to loathing." He paused a moment to allow the message to sink into the young martyr's thick skull. "While I kill everyone you care about? One by one?" He hissed sibilantly leaning forward ignoring the way it pulled at his burns. Ignoring as well the odd sensation he felt and the way Dumbledore's piercing gaze came to the forefront of his mind.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_Dumbledore,Sirius,Cedric,His parents, Dumbledore. _The name's and face flashed through his mind and Harry felt his eyes burn as he recalled Dumbledore on the tower still trying to save Draco. Rage flooded him on the heels of his grief.

"By 'kill them' you mean have teenagers kill them to please their bigoted families right?" He grated fiercely. Pain stabbed his scar as Voldemort laughed.

"I take it that they are less dead for the lack of my personal attention or are you merely disillusioned that a pompous, spoiled, undertrained whelp no older than yourself could kill your precious Albus?" He sneered. Harry felt the emptiness, the sense of loneliness and loss that had been rather muted over the last few weeks return with a vengeance and bit his lip to keep it from trembling. He swallowed hard.

"There will always be people who believe in justice to fight you. We will honor him by carrying on." Harry said wishing he didn't sound so shaky...or melodramatic for that matter.

"And they will follow him to their grave as you will...in due time." Voldemort replied. "Or you could join me in improving this system of apologists, nepotists and self hating restraint of magic that you find so lacking while sparing your 'loved ones'" He said loved ones like one would say 'warts'.

Harry hesitated for a moment with the pain of losing Dumbledore suddenly so fresh and raw, like a scab that had been torn off. He wondered for a moment if perhaps he could, give in, live in solace with what remained of his friends and adopted family. Be selfish.

"And put them through the living hell that you would turn Britain into? Death would be preferable."

"Supposing that you and yours could live in comfort and relative extravagance?" He offered seductively. _Be selfish. It's your life, your friends. Without Dumbledore they would probably lose anyway. He would simply be sparing them a torturous death..._

"Unlike your precious pure-bloods I cannot be bought." Harry snarled.

"Then you'll die." Voldemort said simply. "Along with every last person who assists your futile efforts." He smiled and Harry felt an irrational jealousy a vindictiveness that he assumed came from the snake across from him. Voldemort returned to his reading.

LVLVLVLVLVLVLVLVLVLVLVLVL

Voldemort couldn't focus. He'd been staring at the same page for ten minutes. After their short conversation Harry had turned, scrubbed at his eyes-to Voldemort's sadistic satisfaction-and said no more. Yet still he lacked his normal obsessive focus. It was frustrating to say the least and while he could have attributed such issues to his physical state he knew that wasn't entirely the cause. He been in far worse condition before, it shouldn't serve as quite such a distraction. He just couldn't get Dumbledore's face out of his head or the overwhelming sense of worry and doubt and...he was already reviewing his plans trying to find something he'd overlooked before he realized that it was the boy's feelings bleeding though the mind link. He barely suppressed a groan at the fact the it hadn't occurred to him immediately. He closed his eyes a moment to clear his head, seriously how did the boy have a coherent thought with all of this white noise. When he opened them he realized with some interest that the teen in question was fading.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry woke with a start in his bed at Privet drive and almost puked. As the sickness faded so did the throb in his leg. Curious he looked at it yet could find nothing wrong. He closed his eyes and thought over his strange experience trying to figure out what had changed.

A/N 1: I hope you enjoyed it. I'm still seeking a beta if anyone is interested.

A/N 2: For those who do not have me on author alert-shame on you- I have another story up. It will be kind of rough reading as it's about OCs but the characters in it will be the villains of DC:3 and it provides their back-story so you may want to try it.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry was just finishing weeding the garden when he saw a garter snake slither towards the house.

**"Hello." **He hissed.

"**You can speak to me?" **The snake replied incredulously. "**Who are you?**"

"**I'm Harry and you are?**" He asked politely.

"**My name is Rizel" **The snake answered. "**Why can you speak to me?**"

"**It's a long story.**"Harry said with chagrin. Then on a random impulse he asked. "**Would you like to come in?**"

"**Is there food?**" Harry laughed.

"**I'm sure I can find something." **The snake hissed and harry put his hand down to let it slither up. Harry hadn't heard from anyone in the three weeks since the end of term. In fact his longest conversation had been with the Voldemort three day before. For some reason-perhaps it was the Dumbledore's death and the sudden feeling of isolation-He found himself desperate for someone to converse with, to rant to. A strange bone deep longing that he usually didn't have. He went into the cupboard under the stairs and managed to catch a mouse within half an hour. Feeding Rizel he retired to his room. The Dursley's largely ignored him nowadays and he wasn't nearly desperate enough to feel bad about it.

"**So you are a wizard?**" Asked the snake awkwardly.

"**Yes, though I'm underage.**" He responded in case Rizel wanted him to cast something.

"**Were you the one who released the serpent king?**" Rizel queried in awe.

"**No." **Harry said simply assuming it would be awkward to mention having killed the basilisk. They conversed for bit longer before harry got in bed and Rizel slithered into a cardboard box that was laying on the floor.

Harry awoke in a tiny room with nothing but a bed with black and silver sheets and a small silver trimmed black nightstand with a jug on it. He turned and bolted when he saw Voldemort was laying in the aforementioned bed. He grabbed the door knob opened it and promptly walked into a wall, well an invisible barrier at any rate. _Excellent. Stuck again. _He looked back at the bed, it was completely Slytherin with a silver snake motif headboard, two bedposts made of some black wood possibly ebony extending above it and ending in carved basilisk heads with ruby eyes. However it was the darklord himself who caught Harry's attention. He was laying on his side, body curled in on itself and as Harry watch a violent shivering racked the body then stopped. Harry suddenly realized that he had touched the door perhaps he could...Harry sighed, even if he could bring himself to he had no muggle weapon. Well maybe...He pointed his wand at the darklord's neck and swallowed hard thinking about how Dumbledore had also been cut down in this manner...without remorse...on this snake's orders. He still felt sick but the rage was helping.

"Diffindo." He whispered. Nothing happened. He tried again a little louder and more precise. A few sparks flew from his wand and Voldmort bolted upright wand in hand. Harry caught a grimace of pain before it was gone and a second later he hit his knees. Spells cascaded around him but he didn't notice. His scar felt like it had split open and it was as though someone was flaying the skin on his ribs. He screamed in agony while rage and an uncharacteristic terror flooded him. When Harry could finally open his eyes he looked up to see the darklord sitting up in bed, Wand nowhere to be seen with hate filled eyes of blood fixed on him. However the effect was rather diminished by the glazed look in his eyes, the somehow-even-paler-than-normal skin and the sheen of sweat that harry could see even from where he was crouched. Voldemort rose and harry noticed the way his a jaw clenched with the motion. He stood grabbing a bottle that harry hadn't seen from behind the jug on the nightstand. He drank from it, pocketed it and walked through the door with what Harry thought was a slight limp_. Odd. _Harry thought. _Why would he be injured he certainly had access to healers even if he was a poor healer himself._ Harry found himself still crouched but on the other side of the doorway though he had no idea how he got there. Voldemort sat in the chair that he had been sitting in on the last time harry had dreamed of being there and summoned the book to himself. He perused the book while harry watched.

Harry heard a thumped and looked up. He saw that the book had fallen to the floor and walked over curious. He realized with shock that the darklord had fallen asleep. On a whim he picked up the book and while he couldn't understand the words the diagrams made it clear that it was about the workings or making of staffs. Perhaps this would be useful information for Dumble... the order. He tried to commit the title to memory. He passed an undetermined amount of time lounging on the carpet, thinking how strange it was to see Voldy sleep and wondering what was wrong. _Maybe he's dying of an illness _thought Harry with a perverse sense of hope. He tried diffindo again but it passed right through the elder wizard. He felt a sting on his face and opened his eyes to see that Petunia had slapped him.

"WAKE UP." She screeched. "You're lazier than my sister. Go go, Duddykins needs breakfast if he's going to beat that punk in the boxing match tonight."

"Uhnrg." Harry responded eloquently.

"MOVE." She shrieked and he moved. Just another morning at Privet drive. _With the night spent in the head of a madman. Yep normal day. _He thought cynically


	4. Chapter 4

_On a warm summer's evenin' on a train bound for nowhere_

_I met up with the gambler, we were both too tired to sleep_

_So we took turns a starin' out the window at the darkness_

_'Til boredom overtook us and he began to speak_

_He said, "Son, I've made a life, out of readin' people's faces_

_And knowin' what their cards were by the way they held their eyes_

_So if you don't mind my sayin', I can see you're out of aces_

_For a taste of your whiskey I'll give you some advice"_

Harry lay on his bed trying to find the words to write a letter concerning the odd turn his dream/visions had taken. He looked over at Rizel asleep in his box, the snake had become oddly comfortable there and Harry appreciated having someone-or something as it were to talk to. Harry had dreamed himself to that house three nights in a row now, it was enough of a change in intensity and frequency to warrant the order knowing.

The second night had passed much the same as the first except Voldemort simply pretended he didn't exist instead of launching a vicious-if ineffective-attack. Otherwise he had lain stretched out in the bed reading until he fell asleep. As soon as he did Harry started to notice the periodic shivering. He had a migraine the next day from his scar. Last night had been different Voldemort had been sitting in the chair when he'd arrived still studying. Harry wasn't scared though. He had found when contemplating assaulting the darklord with the jug that while he could make contact with items if he applied to much pressure he would ghost through them. He assumed it worked in reverse as well.

After some two hours of watching the darklord read his head aching with said man's annoyance he stood up.

"So what's the deal with the staffs?" He questioned genuinely curious, he'd never heard any one mention them before. "Is your wand too short or something?" As immature as it was Harry just couldn't resist the temptation to needle his enemy knowing that there could be no retribution.

Voldemort's lip curled in disgust. "How eloquently stated." He replied, returning to the book, Harry was reminded painfully of Snape and he felt a surge of murderous rage towards the cowardly Slytherin traitor. Harry smiled as an idea occurred to him born of boredom and impotent rage.

Ten minutes, a 'silencio', two 'crucio's, several spells Harry had never heard of and enough pain from his scar to force him to keep his eyes closed but not to stop him from loudly singing snatches of any British invasion song that popped into his head and Voldemort spoke breathing slightly heavier.

"What in Salazar's name are you doing." Pain flared in his scar, rage but of a slightly different flavour.

"Trying be as much of a pain in your arse as I can..or find out what staffs are for." Voldemort hesitated for a bit than pocketed his wand with his right hand and with his left set the book on the small black stand by the chair.

"Staffs are wands." He said simply. That made no sense to Harry. Practically speaking it would be a waste of wood and not cost-effective if they were the same thing. Unless wands were just newer technology so to speak, which would explain why he'd never seen them in a shop but then why would Voldemort be interested in them. He asked as much omitting his musings about voldie's plans and felt a flicker of something like surprise while Voldemort gave him an appraising look. After a moment Voldemort responded.

"There are two main differences between staffs and wands." He began and Harry had the odd feeling he was in class. "The first is what they actually are where a wand is of course a luppiter..." At Harry's look of incomprehension Voldemort exhaled and clarified."A wand is a luppiter or focus they're designed to channel and direct your energy. A staff on the other hand is a isandiso or amplifier, It magnifies your energies. There are also katals such as censers, fetishes and totems that help the caster access certain branches of magic" A flicker of impatience and anger went through his scar. Harry took a step back before remembering he was safe, eliciting a small smirk from the darklord. Harry resisted the urge to duck his head in shame.

All of this was fascinating to Harry. Why had he never been taught any of this in school. Why though, had the darklord added that last bit it hadn't really been necessary, not that he was complaining but Voldemort didn't seem like the type to go off on tangents unless they had relevance.

"So why doesn't everyone just use staffs if they increase your power?" He asked, a spark of something like pleasure flicked though his head, Harry suppressed a shiver remembering to keep a trust but verify attitude during this 'lesson'.

Voldemort hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Two reasons. The first specifically concerning staffs is about how they function. Wands are crafted for people they favor a person whose magic is compatible with theirs. They can be made specifically for one person. A staff on the other is crafted for magic and can only cast spells in those one to three branches of magic it was crafted for. However they have the slight upside of working the same for anyone, they can be and are mass produced. The second reason is that isandiso's are illegal without a special permit and training in Britain, in Europe actually."

"Oh. Why? How do you get a permit?" Harry asked rapt, completely forgetting who he was listening to.

Voldemort smiled coldly and Harry felt another small spark of anger chased by something like amusement. "Again there are two reasons, the first is practical: they're dangerous. If you perform a spell incorrectly with a luppiter it simply won't work or will only half work, as I'm sure you're aware." Harry ignored the dig. "If you make a mistake with a isandiso it can go off target, cast a similar but unwanted spell or overload in a raw burst of magic. The second reason is fear there are few enough wizards with the skill to use them effectively and fewer still in the ministry that the government feels it's 'unfair' to allow those who _can_ use them to do so." That seemed reasonable to Harry Voldemort was scary enough with just a wand but he said nothing. _There is only power and those to weak to seek it. _That law must have seemed like the ultimate affront to Voldemort.

"As to how you get a permit?" The dark lord continued rhetorically. "You don't. The only permits Britain issues are for high-ranking aurors to get ministry issue battle staffs, since they obviously need something deemed to powerful for the general public to control said public." _Well he isn't bitter or anything_. Harry thought amused though he had to admit that discrepency in power was a bit unnerving especially when considering what happened with Sirius. "Healers on St. Mungo's staff or attached to the ministry can also apply for permits for healing staffs but that's it." Harry realized a little belatedly that Voldemort motive for giving him this information was to make him question the ministry's restrictions.

In the pause that followed Voldemort momentarily closed his eyes and Harry noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. Harry had almost forgotten how ill he'd been. Voldemort opened his eyes a second later and Harry opened his mouth to ask about the kitles when he felt a force shove him. For a moment he wondered if there was an earthquake or something, then he had opened his eyes and come face to face with Petunia. She had then ranted about how he wasted her time for a fair half hour while he'd cooked breakfast.

He looked down at the parchment in his hands.

_Hey, Ron and Hermoine._

_How are you guy's doing? Are you still at the burrow? So my dream/vision/things have gotten weird..well weirder. I've had them the last three nights in a row and Voldemort can see me now which is creepy. I can also interact with my surroundings to an extent but Voldemort can't do anything to me. His spells go right through me, sadly it works both ways and the same goes for physical attacks. Anyway I thought the order should know about the change._

_Hope you're well, Harry_

Harry sent the letter off with Hedwig cringing at the thought of Hermoine's rebuke for not learning occlumency. He realized that he probably should have mentioned Voldemort's apparent illness but oh well he'd remember to mention it in his next letter. Because he_ had_ forgotten it wasn't that his naive gryffindor sense of fair play balked at the idea or anything he'd just forgotten. He should be dreading falling asleep, falling back into that snake hole yet he found that he wasn't. He supposed knowing that Voldemort couldn't touch him took some of the horror away, made it seem rather like a movie. He had to remember to ask about the kitles.

Petunia woke Harry the next morning and he went down stairs to cook feeling very refreshed. He realized with a strange pang that he hadn't dreamt at all.

A/n 1 Lyrics courtesy of metrolyric and Kenny Rodgers I hope you don't mind. If you are wondering luppiter is latin for focus, isandiso is zulu-as in historical African shamans-for amplifier and katal is a shortened form of the german word for catalyst. Thank you google translate

A/n 2 I'm still seeking a beta. Also a reminder that the first chapter of the side story 'rising in the east' is up.

A/n 3 If you guys want I'm planning two anthologies to go with the series one will be alternate scenes, povs and other tidbits so feel free to make requests. The other if you're interested will be of various challenge fics if anybody want's to take them. Send them to me and I will post them in the anthology with a link to your profile. If you don't want me to post it for you let me know and I will post a link to the story in the anthology instead. Offer 1: If anybody would like to write about Ron and Herm's time in the burrow/grimuald place and how they respond to harry's letters it would be 2-4 chaps depending on how you wanted to do it.

A/n 4 Harry's misspelling of katals is intentional.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been three days since his last dream and Harry was disgusted with himself. It took a concentrated effort not to put his pen through the paper as he wrote.

_Hey, Ron and Hermione._

_I forgot to mention in my last letter: Voldemort is ill although it seems like he's getting better. Pity. Also he appears to be trying to make a staff though I'm not entirely sure why other than that it will increase his power, I guess that's reason enough. Yeah Voldy's gonna have a superwand fun,__fun,__fun. Anyway I hope you guys are well. I can't wait to get out of here and get to work._

_Sincerely__, Harry._

He sent the letter off with Hedwig and fed Rizel a mouse. He felt woefully under prepared for the task he was set to perform. He essentially had to outwit Voldemort to destroy the horcruxs and the thought was scaring the hell out of him. It wasn't so much that he was scared of what Voldemort would do to him as it was he was terrified of not living up to the wizarding world's expectations.

**"You're scared, I smell your fear." **Said Rizel helpfully.

Harry shrugged. "**I'm about to play a game of wits and skill with one of the darkest wizards of all time." **He replied, then feeling ashamed added. "** It would be like you fighting a basilisk." **He had to admit, if only to himself that it felt good to not have to be the fearless boy-who-lived, savior-of-the-light with someone even if it was just a garter snake. He wondered for a second if that was why the darklord kept Nagini around before dismissing the thought with a laugh. The darklord was supremely haughty, he had no doubts _to _share he liked Nagini because a she was a powerful, venomous snake and a mark of his position. Harry laid back in bed and fell asleep.

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Voldemort sat in his workshop at Slytherin castle looking down at the items he had collected in his travels east. It wouldn't make him what he wanted but there was no point in crafting an item he couldn't effectively use so it would do in the interim. A hollow stick five feet long, one half red oak for shields and countercurses the other half blackthorn for curses Magically melded so they flowed into each other seamlessly. A Pair of cores, one made of griffin bone the other of erumpent horn carved into the a griffin claw and erumpent head respectively at one end with a hole drilled in the other. He placed these in the hollow staff so the holes lined up with a hole drilled though the middle of the stick where the two woods melded and only carved heads showed on the ends. He then grabbed a peg of snake-wood that he'd prepared with special bonding charm and jammed it through the three holes gritting his teeth as his shoulder jarred out-of-place. He watched as it glowed light blue at the join, looking at the carefully carved cobra's head with satisfaction. The result was a staff of red oak and blackthorn with a carved bone griffin claw sticking from one end, an erumpent head from the other. The cobra head stuck straight out from the center like the handle of a tonfa.

Picking up his newly crafted staff he went into his personal training room to test it. Since no one was around he took it easy, ego had no place when training alone with a new weapon and still healing body. Pointing the griffin head left-handed he fired off a simple _bombarda_ and took out half of the practice dummies, the recoil forcing him back a few steps. Two of the other dummies fired curses and he spun the staff, a shield wall trailing the erumpent's head twice as thick as he would have made it with the same effort by wand. He switched ends again taking out the other half of the dummies and ended grasping both ends with cobra's head pointing out summoning a dozen pythons with _sepensortia_. After a few more minutes he headed back to his quarters he would certainly need more practice, he would hardly take the staff into battle right now but it was everything he had pictured it would be at this stage. The meeting at the end of the week was specifically scheduled to fall on the full moon so he would have a prime target or two to play with. He almost smile at the thought. Sadistic anticipation occupying those thoughts not on battles plans.

HPHPHPHPHPHPH

Harry awoke with his scar stinging. He search his memory and couldn't remember having any dreams so he focused on sting of the scar and was vaguely aware of a pleasant glow. It reminded him of….of getting his firebolt. _Well this can't be good. _He thought ruefully

Harry was weeding the garden when a scream pierced the quiet summer morning.

**"aaaarrrrgggg heeeelp" **Harry ran around the corner of the house to see Rizel cowering between two of the garden rocks a fat gray tomcat swiping at him. Harry gave a hiss and the cat took of with an extremely pissed yowl. Harry pick Rizel who curled into a tight coil in his hand not moving.

**"Th-thankssss." **He hissed gratefully tone turning more sibilant with fear.

**"No problem." **Harry replied simply. "**Are you okay?" **Rizel paused for a moment before answering

**"I seem to be unharmed. Again thank you." **Harry smiled happy that his companion was safe, even the fear accent was gone. He had no idea why he still had the snake. He assumed that Voldemort's taste for snakes coming through the link coupled w/ his own loneliness had caused him to befriend Rizel initially but why did he let the snake stay? The very idea of a pet snake should have repulsed him. He chalked it up to loyalty and that the snake was actually better company than most people he'd met. At least Rizel didn't judge him and make assumptions strictly based on his being the boy-who-lived.

Harry was about to go to sleep. It'd been almost a week since he'd had a vision/dream though he would still get glimmers mostly satisfaction sometimes annoyance or anger far more frequently than normal.

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Voldemort was exhausted he had been working around the clock between training, battle plans and the upcoming election of Pius Thicknesse. That aside however he was used to keeping such hours and thanks to his new body didn't need as much sleep as a human. No his exhaustion was mostly of a mental variety he had strengthened his occlumency shields and kept them at peak strength all day instead of strengthening them just before bed. He was operating as though mental attack was imminent even when he was alone because apparently it was. He wondered as to what had caused the strengthening of the bond so that he could see and interact with Harry. He had sickening suspicions of what caused the link to begin with though he didn't know how it could have happened. A thought suddenly struck him, if his suspicions were correct and he could get Harry on his side...with proper training that would be one very safe horcrux. On the other hand getting the golden boy to switch sides was about as likely as getting licked by a basilisk . Then again if he was going to manage it the new way the link functioned would provide the perfect avenue.

He strode to the meeting room his leg and other wounds had long since healed though he still wasn't fully recovered from the accompaning infection and fever. He no longer had the infection but he found his endurance and strength hadn't fully returned yet.

He called the meeting and surveyed the room while some sixty deatheaters entered and appearated.

"The first order of business Lucius how goess the election?"

"We have bribed Janice and Raul," He began naming two of three officials overseeing the election. "Kane couldn't be bought so Zilon modified his memory to forget the offer."

"Good work Lucius." While tempting they could hardly kidnap and torture an election official without casting doubt on the election two would be enough.

"Fenrir, I beleive you have a matter to attend to." He stated. The man in question walked forward still a man the moon having not yet risen enough to trigger the transformation. He was dragging a filthy, bloody, teary Ratel by a dragonhide rope attached to a silver choke collar, hands and feet bound by silver chains. _pathetic. _Fenrir threw him to the floor and waited smiling horribly. After about five minutes Ratel went from sniveling to full-on sobbing. Fenrir started kicking him to make him shut up. After a couple of minutes Voldemort lost patience, silenced him and fired a _crucio_ out of annoyance. The change started Voldemort watched with his deatheaters as Fenrir turned admiring the fluidity with which magic brought to the surface the beast that all humans had i them. With a still human mouth Fenrir mumbled.

"You got one thang grright kid. Ya garrrna be one filtha wolllllf." He ended howling and advanced on the silently sobbing twenty-something. Fenrir circled trying to maximize the fear, Voldemort removed the silencing charm and screams and pleading filled the room.

"Oh god,oh god oh god. No. Please no." He darklord smiled coldly, Fenrir the was now fully transformed. Voldemort cast a silent physigio charm creating a shield wall through which no one could pass but spells could be cast. He then unlocked the restraints. Ratel didn't even try to stand as Fenrir, made cognizant but no less dangerous by wolfsbane walked forward. Ratel scrambled back until he hit the shield and lay whimpering still. Fenrir bent down and bit as gentle a nip as he could while still breaking skin. A taunt.

"Noooooooooooo..." Ratel screamed in fear and revulsion and immediately the change started taking affect. He transformed slowly, fighting it tooth and nail his scream turning to pure pain. When he was fully wolf he rounded on Fenrir with a snarl and leapt. Fenrir rolled to the side, spun and leapt on Ratel's back clawing the skin, fur flying. Ratel in pain and with pure unmuted wolf instinct twisted around and tried to slash Fenrir's face but missed. Fenrir rolled off with a twist and the sudden lack of weight and pull dragged Ratel down Fenrir hit him with a howl biting everything he could reach and then it was over. Ratel was on his back exposing his stomach, backing down. He accepted Fenrir as his alpha, or at least his wolf did. Voldemort spelled the silver shackles back and the wolf howled in pain. He dropped the shield and Fenrir walked Ratel to the dungeon, leash in his mouth looking as proud as a niffler with a bag of gold. Fenrir gave the dragonhide a viscious tug here and there making the younger wolf yelp in pain.

"All of the new initiates step forward." Draco and half a dozen others stepped forward. "Crucio the person to your right starting with Draco." Draco with his face and knuckles bleached white with nerves cast the spell and the boy to his right screamed. He held it until Voldemort nodded. The boy struggled to his feet. He was shaking so hard he could even say the incantation. He finally got it right on the third try and so it went through the other kids. When they had all cast the spell Voldemort spoke again.

"Sever your ring finger on your off-hand." All the boys went white, a couple gasped. Voldemort resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Screams filled the room though the boy who couldn't cast the_ cruciatas _also couldn't get his _diffindo_ spell to work and another simply wasn't trying. Ignoring the screams and moans he approached the boy who wasn't doing anything. The boy started shaking, some of the defiance leaving his gaze.

"You were given an order why are you not obeying?" He asked simply.

"I-I-I'm not going to m-multilate myself f-f-for anybody sir." The boy stuttered shaking.

"Than you shouldn't have sworn fealty to anybody." He replied simply and walked away hearing the boy's exhalation. He turned to see that through their pain the five boys who'd done it now wore incredulous looks and hid a smirk. He waved and one of the death eaters walked forward, healed each boy's finger and gave them a potion to regrow it.

"If you will be going into battle you should at the very least know a coagulation spell. They have more enjoyable usessss assss well." He said exaggerating the hiss for effect. "Now," A deatheater walked up leading three muggles. They were maneuvered and magically bound in front of three of the initiates. Voldemort quickly immobilized and levitated the two boys who didn't perform the finger cutting in front of Draco and the other remaining kid. "..avada kadavra." He instructed with a cold smile careful not to actually cast the spell. In almost one motion the five victims dropped though he noticed that the boy next to Draco hesitated slightly.

"Step forward and submit unto your Lord." He said ritually. Draco stepped up onto the raised platform where the darklord was standing and knelt holding out his arm. Voldemort indicated that he should stand. "_Morsmordre_." He spoke touching yew to the boy's skin. Draco yelled with a voice already hoarse from screaming but kept his feet. Voldemort handed him the robes and mask of a deatheater and the boy walked away. After the other kids had repeated the process, he dismissed the lower ranks leaving only his dozen lieutenants minus Fenrir.

"Severus." He said his voice silky and the man stepped forward.

It wasn't until he almost lifted the cruciatas to keep Snape from passing out that the man hit the floor. It wasn't until he started the fourth that the man finally screamed. That was okay the challenge Severus presented was amusing and although he'd never say it he had to admire that kind of grit. He supposed a muggle psychologist would say he saw a bit of himself in the skilled half-blood. _Clueless muggles. _He intensified the curse.

A/N 1 Do you feel my characterizations are off? I'm afraid I'm making harry too independent and lv too fluffy.

A/N 2 With the next update I will be overhauling this fic: merging some chapters to create a more consistent length but other than proof reading the chapters will not change. I will also be changing the name to something that fits the story better

A/N 3 I have a beta starting in august. Again if anyone is interested in doing the Hermoine/Ron story let me know.


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